Chuck VS The Others
by Intersect
Summary: With Fulcrum gone, Chuck and company thought they only had the Ring to worry about. They were wrong. The Others await, in a tale of mystery, action, comedy and romance. Takes place after the season 2 finale.
1. An Artist

Chapter One - An Artist

Frank put his hands on his knees, kneeling over to catch his breath. Moving his hazel eyes from side to side, always alert, his black attire stood out like a sore thumb against the whiteness of the stone wall behind him. Looking back the way he came, the only break in the white of the wall came from the spots of blood that had been splattered up against it. Frank laughed inside. He was an artist. If the dead guards on the floor could speak, they would have agreed. The style that Frank had used to terminate them had been beautiful. He looked up, the mental clock in his head telling him he had to go now. His protégés trick with the security cameras wouldn't last forever, and when they knew he was there, all hell would break loose.

Frank moved quickly, but silently down the hallway. Pistol in his right hand, blade in his left, his body and mind one cohesive unit, aware of all things around him as he moved. After 32 years of practice, this came naturally to him. A drop of sweat appeared on his forehead, which gave him more pause than any enemy had in 20 years. He never sweated. Even though he thought his mind was unaffected by the feelings any normal human would be feeling at this point, his body betrayed him. This mission was everything. This mission was it. It had to be done.

A crossroads appeared in the hall in front of him, about twenty feet away. Frank knew from his studies that he had to turn left. Suddenly, a man walked out from the hallway to the right, a guard in an all gray uniform, with a machine gun resting on his shoulder. The closer Frank got to his target room, the bigger the weapons the guards carried got. Without pause, Frank rushed the guard.

The guard barely had time to turn around, much less call for help, before Frank was upon him. The man was a grizzled veteran, to Frank's delight. Recently, it seemed he only killed the young. Pistol whipping the guard across the left cheek while slamming the blade into the man's chest, Franks momentum propelled the guard against the back wall, the blade going through him and clanging against the stone. Their eyes connected. For a little over a second, they stared at each other, but before the light went out in the man's eyes, Frank had moved on, down the left hallway, leaving another paint stroke on his canvas.

Frank's eyes connected with the many alarms and traps that were placed all throughout this hallway. As his years had advanced, so had the technology. Back in his twenties, this hallway would have been jammed pack with guards, but now, computers were the standard, and Frank had to admit, most of the time, more efficient. But his protégé was very good. Those had been the very best alarm systems, and they had taken a while to crack, but his trainee had done it. That made Franks job a lot easier, at least until the reached his target. And that target, that he knew as well as he knew his wife's body, was in a room, the entrance of which was 30 feet ahead to his right.

Moving quickly, he swiped the manipulated badge through the slot on the door. It buzzed, skipping several steps, and the door opened. He slipped inside, knowing it would be empty of people. Only the big boys would be allowed inside this room. He paused, looking at the lone computer in the otherwise empty room. A new age table held it, other than that, it looked like a room where one might lock in a member of an asylum. There, in that computer, was all of the CIA's employee records. Recently, they had realized what a liability this was, and it was in the process of being destroyed. Luckily, there was a lot of red tape. They had had to move fast to get here before the end date.

Frank moved up to the computer, and taking the drive out of his breast pocket, he held it up to the port in the computer, knowing the second he put it in, everyone would come. A wry grin appeared on his face. This was it. His hand cracked as he plugged it in, but the hand didn't shake. Mustn't get nervous now, old man, he said to himself, keeping the grin on his face. He logged in.

Knowing he only had about two minutes, praying he had two minutes, best case scenario, he quickly searched though the computer for what was needed. 30 seconds past. Damn mouse, it wasn't used enough and it kept sticking. 45 seconds past. His fingers moved quickly across the keyboard. His protégé would be proud. After a little over a minute had past, he found what he was looking for.

Colonel John Casey, of the NSA. Frank had heard of him, but not of his apparent promotion. Code Name Sarah Walker. Strange that it only listed her code name, and not her real one. No time to ponder about that. And finally, there it was. The name of all names, the name he was after, the name he needed so desperately, the name he was sacrificing his life to find.

Charles Irving Bartowski.

Frank had done it. His heart leapt like it hadn't in years, knowing that this wasn't in vain. He quickly uploaded the appropriate file to the drive and pulled it out of the computer, attaching it to his cell phone. There, he quickly emailed it to his boss. Then, dropping the cell phone to the floor as it self destructed, he waited.

Frank had known going into this mission that there would be no escape. There was no way around it, this was a suicide mission. But it had to be done. As dozens of agents and guards rushed towards him, he smiled. He thought of the morning coffee he had every morning for most of his life. The feeling that he had the moment he had been recruited. The second he met his wife, their first kiss, the first time they made love, the final kiss goodbye he had given her earlier that day… oh, the memories.

The sound of feet running down the hallway pulled Frank out of his reverie. And, as he had always done, he fought silently and effectively, not going down without a fight. The CIA would have him no longer, the Ring would not take ownership of him, no, soon, Frank's boss would own the Intersect.

Franks gun ran out of bullets, and a few seconds later, his blood became the final addition to his masterpiece. And oh, what a painting it was.


	2. Flash Already

**Thanks for the reviews of Chapter One, I really appreciate it.**

Chapter 2 - Flash Already

"Flash, already!" Chuck Bartowski's mind yelled as he stared down the barrel of some sort of weapon. One would think with how many weapons had been pointed at him the past two years, he would start to get some sort of knowledge of the makes and models, but no such luck. He supposed it didn't matter which type of weapon it was that was pointed at him, it would kill him just the same. Still, he would have to make a point to ask Casey for a quick rundown if he made it out of this one alive. Ha, that's something Casey might actually take an interest in. Chuck smiled, and caught the burly man with the gun off-guard.

"What is so funny, little man?" the big, strong man said in his deep voice. The man's name was Rotund Emberd, a rogue NSA agent. That had ruffled Casey's feathers, or maybe Casey's scales would be a better way of putting it.

"Nothing, nothing," Chuck quickly stammered. "It's just I thought about your gun, and then, well, it's kinda hard to explain…"

Rotund sneered, his brown moustache curling up as he did so, his large, fat face wrinkling. The man was built, his arms about the size of Chuck's neck, protruding like tree trunks out of his blue tee. "I think this mouse here thinks he is funny guys." The four guys lined up behind Rotund, in a victory V formation, all chuckled as if on a laugh track.

"Please flash, please flash…" Chuck's mind yelled. He tried to concentrate, to force a flash that would save his life, but it wouldn't come. Maybe Sarah would. Oh, Sarah… He lost his breath when he thought about her, the simple act of thinking her name was more emotional for him than having a gun pointed at his nostrils. If he had a therapist, he was sure they would go crazy with that. But Sarah… he wanted her there so bad right now…

"So, should I shoot off his fingers first, guys?" The clones standing behind Rotund all laughed again. "You come in here, Carmichael, thinking you can take us out all by your lonesome." Rotund got up in Chuck's face, breathing heavily. Chuck winced, the smell was unpleasant. "That isn't funny. That insults me." The man licked his lips, and Chuck almost dry heaved. Chuck guessed being rogue meant little or no bath time. "No, I'm not gonna torture you. That would be complimenting you. You're not worth my time." Rotund clicked his gun into place, and Chuck's heart dropped.

"FLASH ALREADY!" he yelled, and Rotund stopped, lowering the gun, his eyebrows bent down at Chuck's statement.

"You want me to flash you?"

"No no, no, of course not… I mean, I'm sure you're a very good looking man, in fact, I know… well, what I mean to say is that if I, well, it just wasn't…"

"Enough!"

Chuck's palms were dripping with sweat as he whimpered. Shoulders slumped, he held his breath in, getting ready for the bullet he was going to take in his head. Oh Sarah… Sunlight streamed in through the windows behind him, lighting yet another abandoned warehouse. Before Chuck got the Intersect, he had never known just how many empty warehouses there were in the city.

Breath still held, he watched as Rotund raised the gun once again. "Hasta la vista, Carmic…" Rotund stopped mid-sentence, and stepped back, Chuck was confused. What was it now? Not that he should be complaining, but the tension was killing him. The sound of breaking glass scared the crap out of Chuck, and he hit the floor as gunshots immediately followed. Two of Rotund's henchmen fell down, bodies riddled with bullets, as Chuck turned over on his back and saw Casey, the Tarzan version, standing in the room, gun a blazing, having swung in on his rope. Hearing the sound of splintering wood, Chuck turned back towards Rotund and the two surviving goons just in time to see Sarah break through the door and take out one more of the henchmen with a shot between the eyes. Ouch. Just a few seconds ago, Chuck thought, that would have been him.

That left Rotund and one accomplice the only ones alive. They both fired at Casey, who rolled to his left and then scrambled, dressed in all black, but having no visible body armor on. Sarah fired into the back of the one remaining henchman, filling him with lead until he hit the floor. Rotund was the only one left.

Eyes filled with fear, he turned around and pointed his gun at Sarah, but he already had two guns pointed at him at this time.

"Give it up, Rotund. We've got you." Sarah managed to say that without panting or showing any sign of the physical exertions she had been through.

"Not on your life," he grunted. That lead to a Casey grunt, and Chuck saw Casey's finger tighten on the trigger, but not pull. The orders were to take Rotund in alive. Suddenly, Chuck saw Rotund make a slight move towards Sarah, and Chuck flashed…

~_an ancient Chinese symbol~_

Body taking control over mind, Chuck jumped up off the ground without support from his arms, in a single leap threw himself over right behind Rotund, and in less than a second snapped the large man's rather considerable neck, killing him instantly. The dead body hit the floor with a thud, and the sound gave Chuck control of his body once again. Sarah and Casey were staring at him, once again. Just like in the Intersect room. Would they ever get used to this? Would he?

'Damn it Chuck, did you have to kill him?" Casey walked over, stance of a lion, getting in Chuck's face. Just a week ago, Chuck never would have imagined Casey ever saying something like that to him.

"It wasn't his fault Casey, lay off." Sarah walked up to Chuck as well, cool as a cat, at least on the outside. "He can't control when his… when he flashes."

Chuck laughed. "If I could, I would have done it long before you two showed up."

"Excuse me if we weren't the ones who got kidnapped in the biggest maze of a warehouse I've ever seen, Bartowski." Casey's nose seemed to get a lot bigger every time he got mad.

"Oh, I didn't mean that as an evaluation of your skills," stammered Chuck.

"We know Chuck, we know." Sarah got closer to him, and pulled an invisible hair off his shirt. His brown eyes met her blue, and sparks flew between them. They still hadn't had a chance to really talk about that morning in the hotel room, and it was driving Chuck crazy. With the past week being filled with dozens of tests on the new Intersect, there really was no time to discuss feelings. And considering how hard it was for Sarah to do that, Chuck was starting to become unsure if said conversation would ever happen. MORGAN! He hadn't yelled at that bearded little demon yet for raiding his wallet. Something else to do. "Are you sure that you are okay?" Sarah's hand stopped picking invisible hairs off his shoulder long enough to slightly caress Chucks neck. Staring into one another's eyes, as if in a trance, Sarah let her hand rest there. Her touch was maddening. How he wanted to touch her neck… no, he didn't want that. He wanted more. He wanted to run his mouth down her neck, devouring it in a way they both would love… if she would let him. If that morning in the hotel room hadn't just been instincts or some other excuse Chuck was deathly afraid she would hide behind.

"Gee golly Chuck, your neck looks so soft. Can I touch it too?" A giant smile formed on Casey's face. Why was it whenever Casey smiled, it was normally at Chuck's expense?

Sarah's hand quickly left Chucks left and returned to her side. They both stared down, like awkward children with their hands caught in the cookie jar. Crap, what was it that she had asked before she touched him, in that soft, gentle, yet incredibly sexy way? Keep the mind on track Bartowski. You can do it. Damn, he just called himself Bartowski. Last thing he wanted was his mind becoming Casey. That was scarier than Rotund with a gun. Come on, what had she asked… oh, that's it.

"I'm feeling fine, thanks." He quickly smiled at her, than lowered his gaze again. Now he was unintentionally staring at her breasts. That was nice too, but the last thing he wanted was a reaction. He was already starting to get there with the neck caress, and if he started to show, Casey would never let him live it down.

"Well, if you two are done being frisky, let's go. I buzzed the cleanup team, they are on their way. We have to go report to Beckman." Chuck winced at that. Rotund was dead, and he had killed him. Chuck was used to screwing up missions occasionally, but never in this way. Never so permanently. Casey sneered at Chuck. "You can be the one to explain to her why Rotund is dead." Oh great…

On their way out the door, Chuck suddenly remembered something. "Oy, Casey, I was wondering if I could be trained on what the names of guns are and such…"

Casey turned and looked at Chuck. "Don't make fun of me, Bartowski." He then kept walking.

Chuck looked at Sarah. "I was being serious… Sarah?" She was smiling. Hmm. All thoughts of firearms left Chuck's mind.

* * *

"So that is why you two are responsible." Chuck thought he couldn't shrivel back away from the screen anymore, but he was sure as hell trying. Beckman was mad, but not at him. Sarah and Casey had failed to control the Intersect, Beckman had said. Chuck wasn't sure how that was possible, they had had issues with controlling the regular Intersect, much less this new, dangerous one.

"Understood, General," they both said in unison. Chuck stopped himself from giggling. They were scared silly of this petite redheaded woman. Of course, Chuck was too, but he wasn't a trained agent.

"This was your first mission with the new Intersect, and it's a failure. Not a great way to start out." Beckman's nose looked a little red, maybe she had a cold? Chuck thought back on past experiences when he had tried to be nice to the General and decided against asking about her wellbeing. Especially since her wrath wasn't directed at him, for once.

"So, on the heels of this mission, I have another one for you. Yes, its rather soon after the last, but this is better, you won't dwell on your failures." Sarah seemed to take each insult personally. Chuck really wanted to defend her, but knew that would probably make it worse. "This one is a personal request of the Director of the CIA." All three of the team members perked up after hearing that. Great, Chuck thought, more pressure.

"A personal friend of the Director's daughter has gone missing. The father is Renald Dixon, the 17 year old daughter Renee. You three are too fly to their home, and see if the Intersect flashes on anything that could lead to her whereabouts. All relevant information will be included in a file on your flight." Beckman smiled, a strange thing. "You are only assigned to try and find information, but seeing as trouble follows you around, be sure to pack appropriately." Chuck smiled. That should make Casey happy, lots of weapons. "Miss Dixon's birthday is in a week, if at all possible it would be nice to have her back by then."

Sarah spoke up. "General, do we have any idea who kidnapped her?"

"Agent Walker, we aren't even sure she was kidnapped. She may have simply ran away. The family is extremely wealthy, it's not like she wouldn't have the funds. Or, she could be in a life-threatening situation. It's up to you three to find out. You have all your normal resources behind you. Your flight leaves in four hours." The screen went black. Not much for goodbyes, was she?

"Lets meet back here in two and a half. On the dot." Casey walked up the steps of Castle. Chuck thought he was still pissed off at getting reprimanded by Beckman. Chuck turned to look at Sarah.

"Your hair is very pretty," he blurted out. Where the hell did that come from, that wasn't at all what he had meant to say. Both of their cheeks turned a slight red color. Sarah looked at him.

"I just have it up, out of the way so it doesn't get in my way on a mission."

"Well, I like it. A lot." At this point, Chuck was wondering if he would ever breath properly again. Were they finally going to have their little talk. Dare he dream that the talk might lead to a return trip to a bed? Heck, he'd settle for just a kiss right now.

Sarah breathed in deeply, muttering something about time. "We have to get ready, Chuck. We'll have plenty of time to talk later."

"Really?" Chuck's stomach dropped, a feeling he had gotten used to the past two years.

"It's a long flight to Switzerland." Sarah reached behind her, grabbing her backpack off the table, then walked up to Chuck and kissed him on the cheek. The joy in Chuck's mind almost drowned out her words. "You look nice too," she said lamely. Chuck's heart rose again. What a roller coaster. Sarah walked up the steps to the Orange Orange, her hips moving in such a way that intoxicated Chuck.

After a minute, he followed, pausing to look in a mirror. He looked like crap, after that last mission. But she said I look nice… Chuck jogged up the steps, smiling.

* * *

Renald Dixon sat in his study, staring at his cell phone, hands shaking, mind wandering. He had just received word that his friend, the Director, was sending his best team to the mansion. Renald had been never been so grateful. He already had all of his personal guards out searching, but CIA trained agents were easily the best shot he had.

He resisted the urge to go up and sit on his daughter's bed again. That was too emotionally grating on him. As a single father, he had spent so much time with his Renee, his little princess. They had a great relationship. Flipping open his cellular, at picture of his daughter stared back at him. Tears filled his eyes. He would find her. He would. He brought his lips up to kiss the picture when a blade went through his heart. Eyes wide, he fell forward, phone tumbling out of his hand and onto the ground. As blood filled his lungs, his last thoughts were of Renee. He slumped forward, dead, on the desk.

A gloved hand picked up the still open cell phone, and looked at the picture. Snapping it shut, the hand threw it in the nearest trash can. Taking his own cell phone out of his pocket, the middle aged man called the only number in the address book. One ring and he picked up.

"Is it done?"

"Renald is dead, along with all the mansion employees."

"The replacements will be there within the hour."

"You managed to find a Renald look-a-like?

"A few modifications had to be made, but yes, we found someone who would suffice."

"And Frank's… protégée?"

"On the way as well. Enough with the questions. You may be closest to me now that Frank is gone, but that doesn't give you free reign."

"Yes sir, my apologies."

"Stay there as the Butler. You will be the first to greet our guests."

"Excellent."

"Stick to the plan. We are going to have the human Intersect, finally, within our grasp. Nothing can go wrong. Nothing will go wrong. Understand?"

"Yes. Mr. Charles Bartowski had better enjoy his flight, it will be the last hours of freedom of his life."


	3. Getting Ready

**Thanks for all of the reviews, they're what keep me going. :)**

Chapter 3 - Getting Ready

Pulling her shirt over her head, Agent Sarah Walker closed the door behind her with the back of her left foot. Throwing the shirt onto her bed, she took the time to stare out the window of her essentially high priced motel room that she had lived in for the past couple years. A couple years. Wow. It was hard to believe she had spent a couple of years here in L.A., on this mission. Unbuckling the belt on her skintight pants, she peeled them off. She needed to shave her legs; that would have to wait. When she had worked at the Wienerlicious, it had been essential to keep them shaved, but she wore pants at the Orange Orange, and with work so busy sometimes she just didn't have time. By work, she didn't mean selling yogurt and orange sherbet in mass quantities, no, she meant the missions. And a week ago, her job had gotten much harder.

Walking over to her massive closet and throwing the doors open, she stared at the strictly organized line of clothes. What to wear… she only needed something for the plane ride, something professional… she already had a backpack packed and ready to go for the mission. They had pretty much stayed in the L.A. area here on Project Chuck, as he would call it, but always be prepared. The CIA shared something with the Boy Scouts. They were in L.A. a lot; there was just to much crime around here. Sarah was glad they hadn't started out in New York, they never would have been able to leave there. Project Chuck. HE was why the mission was harder. A man. But not just any man. The man she wanted.

Groaning, she grabbed a black pair of pants and a white dress shirt, and went to iron the shirt. Don't think about him, don't think about him, she thought to herself. Every time she thought about him within the confines of her room, within sight of her big, comfortable bed, she got herself worked up. It had been well over two years since she had been intimate with anyone. It was logical, she said to herself as she ran the iron over the shirt. And right now, she didn't have the time to relieve herself of any tensions she built up. With Chuck involved, it came way to easy. She blushed slightly as she thought about what she just thought.

She couldn't tell him she didn't want him anymore. She had managed to after their first kiss, only by sheer force of willpower, of telling herself that she had to stick to the mission. But that morning in the hotel room, when they were on the run… his hands running all over her body, his lips on her neck… his tongue assaulting her mouth, she couldn't remember feeling so good. Thank goodness they hadn't had time to discuss that since, she hated the talking. When feelings were involved, everything became so complicated. All she knew right now was that that morning had been a mistake. Chuck still had the Intersect at that point. When he had gotten rid of it, and she had chosen to stay with him, yes, that had been difficult. She loved her job, and hard worked tirelessly to get to the point where she was now. But she would take a life with Chuck over that without thinking about it.

But then he got the Intersect back, except it was… different. And now it was going to be even more of a challenge, though in different ways. Now, she had to protect him, and she had always been taught feelings, relationships, ruined missions. People get hurt, or killed when you let emotion into your work. That had been drilled in her head. And with how confusing it was to her, she had no doubt. Her brain told her she couldn't be with Chuck as long as he was the Intersect, but her heart told her to go for it, give them both what they so badly wanted. What they needed. Throwing the shirt on, and unplugging the iron, she told herself something she had so many times. She needed to make a decision. Either tell him they couldn't have anything until the mission was over, or jump his bones and take him, making him hers in the real sense of the word. But she didn't know what to do… what was she going to do? No matter what, she would have to talk to him about it. She grimaced. Chuck got through those talks so perfectly, while she sat there like a log, shaking or nodding her head. Oh well, they would talk soon. They would figure it out, get rid of all the tension one way or another. She ignored the other many times she had told herself that same thing.

_Ring, ring. _Chuck had made fun of her for having, as he put it, an old fashioned cell phone ring in a world of unlimited choices. It was the CIA automated network. It securely sent messages to every CIA agent, and it was rarely used. Sliding open the phone, she waited for the voice.

"Please enter your pin." She hated that creepy automated voice, almost as much as she hated typing in the twenty-seven digit pin. That was a pain in the ass. One time, she had entered the wrong pin, and that was surprisingly a disaster. For such an old system, the security around it was airtight, and the response quick. 45 seconds later, the pin was painstakingly entered, and the voice started up again.

"A new Director of the CIA has been chosen. Director Aidan Adama is now in charge. Thank you." Short, sweet and to the point, as always.

Sarah paused as she wriggling the tight pants up over her ass. She had never heard of an Aidan Adama. She wondered what had happened to Acting Director Purnell. Not that he had ever contacted Team Chuck, Sarah was pretty sure he didn't know the mission existed. Beckman hadn't informed him, knowing his reign would be short. Adama, Adama… she kept drawing blanks. Beckman had obviously known he would be appointed before Sarah, she had given them his mission. She hoped he was as effective as Graham was. She had actually liked Graham, and that was something she never thought would happen again, with any other director. She pondered asking this Adama for permission to be with Chuck. Smiling wryly, she shook her head. Like that would ever be granted, if anything ever was going to exist between them, it would have to be kept secret.

Secret. Forbidden. Chuck. She was getting worked up again. Not good, she didn't want to change her panties again. Think about something else Sarah, come on… the mission. The upcoming one, in which they were going to Switzerland. She didn't have much information on it, that was waiting on the plane, but it seemed relatively simple, which meant nothing. A daughter of a billionaire gone missing. Standard stuff, especially by their standards. Casey wouldn't like this. But if he could handle selling Beastmasters, he could handle this. Sarah was actually more nervous about the long plane ride than the mission. That long, alone with Chuck. There were two options of how to occupy that time, and only one was realistic. Damn it. That was it. They could wait a few minutes if it took her a while, but she couldn't be near Chuck for that long of a plane ride feeling like this, it would kill her. Ripping her pants off again, she threw herself down on the bed, excited to be with Chuck in the only possible way, at this point…

* * *

"So he did it?"

"Yes. Renald Dixon is dead. I talked to Mikel not ten minutes ago. I thought I'd let you know."

"I thought I felt a soul leave us." Her voice was sweet and innocent, as was her appearance, but she was bat ass crazy, thought the boss on the other line. She felt a soul leave us? What the hell does that mean?

"Okay," he said slowly. "Just make sure your ready and in place." He was more than nervous about her being his number one now, he was terrified. But Frank had found her, trained her, vouched for her, and that was good enough for him. It had to be. For twenty years, Frank was his number two, his go to guy. He had said that this protégée of his was ready, and so it had to be.

"I will be. This will be for Papa." That what she always called Frank, lovingly, teasingly.

"Yes, this will be for Frank. The Intersect will be ours."

* * *

Colonel John Casey grunted. It was on purpose. That had been his response to Chuck getting the Intersect upgrade, strange as it was. Grunt a lot more. Some were on purpose, most weren't. That made him even madder. Chuck causing him to grunt without thinking about it, all the time. Yet he couldn't be mad at Chuck. Damn it, he liked the guy. "Quit thinking that, John, quit thinking that," he muttered to himself. "You don't like him, you've just grown comfortable with him." Yeah right.

Casey had a good selections of his weapons laid out over his bed, cleaning and loading them up. A clean gun was a killing gun. Maybe that made no sense, lyrically, but it worked in his head.

The past week had been a whirlwind, ever since Chuck had downloaded the next level of Intersect into his head. Idiot. Though it was a brave thing, he had to give the man that. After everything that Chuck had been through with the level one Intersect, he chose to download the second one. That was love for his country that did it, Casey was sure. Though he wouldn't be surprised if it was a ploy to get Walker to stay with him. Knuckleheads. Sure, he'd been with fellow agents he worked with, but it had just been for pleasure. They looked at each other like lovesick puppies.

But there was no getting around it. Casey was threatened by Chuck. Yes, 99% of the time, Chuck was still the skinny, nerdy goofball that he always had been, but now, there was that chance of danger, a danger Chuck couldn't control. And that put Casey on edge. Part of the reason he had become comfortable with Chuck was because he never had anything to fear from him. Casey was always alert, looking out for the slightest dangers. But with the old Chuck, there weren't any. It was just Chuck. But now… if Chuck flashed at the right time, he could take Casey out. Casey grunted again, and concentrated on his weapons once more. The time to stop thinking about that which he couldn't control or change was long past.

* * *

Chuck walked out of his room, backpack on his back, humming as he walked into the living room. He still hadn't moved out, though he had planned to, just across the patio, later this week. That would have to be put off. Devon and Ellie were so, well, awesome, for letting him stay in their nest until he got another place.

Ellie was in the living room, watching a Richard Simmons video, working out with the funny looking man. Chuck smiled. Ellie didn't need to lose any weight, but trying to tell her that was like trying to tell Casey he didn't need to carry any more concealed guns on him. Ellie was dressed in her jogging pants and a tank top, with a headband on, moving right in step with Richard. She was getting really…

_~a picture of a man doing a jumping jack~_

Chuck's body locked up as his mind lost control of it, and he mentally groaned. Not again, not another flash. His legs took him over to stand beside Ellie.

"Oh, hey Chuck," she said, giving him a big smile. He only saw it out of the corner of his eye. Throwing off his backpack, he started copying old Richard, move for move in synch perfectly. Ellie was delighted. "You want to work out with me Chuck? That's great! Devon always makes fun of me for these videos, but as I tell him, I've been doing it for years, and you sure like the results." Chuck wondered if Ellie had been drinking; she normally wasn't that forward. Chuck was getting used to letting his mind wonder when his body flashed, he had yet to experience a mind flash, but was told by Beckman it would happen. He would lose control of his thinking. That was a scary thought.

Suddenly, his body started speeding up, and he began moving his arms and legs at a speed old Richard could only dream of. Ellie looked at him, impressed. "Wow, Chuck. Have you been sneaking in sessions?"

Captain Awesome's voice came from behind them. "I think its more likely he's been dipping into the open all night Sarah buffet, hey Chuck? That will get you in shape."

"Devon…" Ellie said, shocked look on her face.

"Yes dear?"

"Nothing."

All of a sudden, Chuck did a back flip, almost knocking the television off the stand with his feet. Ellie just stared him, knowing how out of character this was for him, while Devon smiled broadly. He knew, at least partially. Another back flip, a front flip, and many more combinations, leading up to a double front flip that landed in a split. Chuck groaned as the flash ended and he took control back. He fell over, lying on the floor, feeling the pain from his more than awkward landing position.

"Wow Chuck, looks like you won't be doing the vertical slide with the old lady tonight." Chuck thought he heard Ellie punch Devon in the arm before hearing her run up and sit down on her knees beside him.

"Are you alright Chuck?" Ellie's face gave away her confused state. "What was that Chuck? I've never…" She trailed off, unable to continue.

"Ellie, I honestly don't know, I guess I just saw Richard and got excited, way too into, I mean, you know how I get with my Xbox, I was just playing Call of Duty, and maybe some transference occurred, you know, it's not like I was doing back flips on there, but similar physical feats were performed but with weapons and…" Devon cut Chuck off, saving him from his flustered, rambling rant.

"Chuck, what's in the backpack," he asked, pointing. Ellie looked at it, and Chuck mouthed thanks to Devon.

"Sarah and I are going on a impromptu vacation," he announced, sure of what Ellie's reaction would be. She didn't disappoint. Her face lit up, and she hugged Chuck as they sat on the floor.

"Chuck, that's so romantic, so spontaneous, she's gonna love it. You're going to have so much fun!"

"Did you pack condoms or is she on the pill?" Ellie threw a nearby pillow from the couch at Devon, and he laughed. "Just kidding, just kidding…"

"Anyways," Ellie said, "It's so great that you two will get some alone time together."

"And we can have the house to ourselves. Can we finally do it in the one room we haven't yet?"

Chuck thought about it, then his eyes opened up wide. "Not till I move out you can't."

"Ah, you won't be thinking about us on vacation Chuck. Just you and Sarah, doing your duties." Devon put an emphasis on duties. He wanted to know if this was a spy thing, but Chuck couldn't say anything in front of Ellie.

"I'm sure we'll have fun," Chuck said. It sounded like, by their standards at least, an easy mission. Find a missing daughter. We don't even have to physically find her, just try and get a location, Chuck thought. Could it get any easier?

* * *

Many, many miles away, Frank's protégé arrived at the Dixon's mansion, wondering if their plan to secure the Intersect could really go off this easily.


End file.
